Aphenphosmphobia
by Nilaexn
Summary: Zemyx Suicide 'I was born... alone. I lived my life... alone. And now I will die... alone.' There was something wrong with me. I'd always known it. I was just afriad to admit it. Afraid that I was right


Heeeey... it's a not-needed author's note! Z'OMG!! O.O Anyway, yea, ma new story '_Aphenphosmphobia_'. (Well, duh! . )

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Kingdom Hearts, Sora would die from guilt for killing off all of Org. XIII, Roxas and Axel would be skipping town on their honeymoon, Zexion would never have died and Demyx and him would be doing PDA all day. Now, we don't see this happening, so obviously I don't own Kingdom Hearts and I never will v.v

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**Aphenphosmphobia**

There was something wrong with me.

I knew it from the moment I started school. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew it before then. I always knew it. I was just afraid that I was right. And I was afraid that others would realize it. I didn't want to be labeled as a freak. I wanted to be normal, like all the other kids at school.

But I think I always knew that a normal life was not for me. All the other kids weren't afraid. They lived their lives like normal people.

Mama was afraid for me. She took me to doctors when I was too young to understand what was going on. They couldn't do anything, though. Slowly, Mama's fear for me turned to fear of me, and self-hatred. She hated herself for being afraid of me. She felt guilty for being afraid. In the end, her own guilt killed her.

Or maybe I killed her. That's what I had thought for many, many years. I had sat in my room sobbing for hours over my mother. I though that maybe if I had been a normal kid, my mum would still be alive.

After Mama's death, Papa kept taking me to the doctors to see if they could do anything. I was still too young to fully understand what they said, but I could understand that they still couldn't do anything. Over time, Papa grew colder towards me, blaming me for Mama's death. Eventually, he sent me away to live with a foster family.

The kids at school knew all about me. They knew about the freak kid who's parents hated him, who was abandoned because he wasn't like everyone else. A few people had sympathized, tried to befriend me, but I freaked and pushed them away. No, I lie. I did more than that. I kicked and screamed and bit until they realized that it was futile trying any further. But there was one person that didn't realize it. I almost killed him. Even so, he was sent to hospital for a week. I was expelled after that.

It's a miracle that I made it as far as High School without becoming a serial murderer, or committing suicide. My 'problem', as I had dubbed it, made it impossible for me to be close to anyone. I lived out my years alone in the corner. Eventually, I became the 'emo kid' because I had no friends and preferred to spend my time in the library reading a book.

I avoided everyone I could, only interacting with them when I absolutely had to. Even then I did my job as quickly as possible and made myself scarce after that.

One person came close to breaking through my shield and actually befriending me. But he made the mistake of reaching out for me. Memories flooded back to me and I freaked again, lashing out and punching him in the nose. His eyes widened as he reached for his nose, crimson liquid dripping onto the concrete. Funny, it almost matched his hair colour. After he checked that his nose was still intact, he scowled at me.

"Think you're funny, punk?" He spat at me. His fist curled into a ball and was rushing to meet my face. My eyes widened more than his did, and I ducked and scampered away, heading for one of the more secluded benches by were no one hardly ever went.

Which was where I sat now.

I forced my erratic heartbeat to calm down, and my breath to even out. I closed my eyes for a moment and just listened to my surroundings. The wind whistled through the wind, scattering leaves through the air. The soft pattering of rain falling softly. I opened my eyes and looked up. Grey storm clouds hovered overhead. It was going to start raining soon.

"ZEEEEEXIOOOOON!"

A screech rang through the air, piercing the silence, and I winced. Turning, I saw that boy with the mullet running towards me. My heart pounded. I knew him. What was he doing here?!

The boy soon caught up to me, but he collapsed onto the ground, puffing and catching his breath.

Turning a nonchalant face towards him, I asked "What do you want?"

He sprang up at that. "Are you OK? I saw the fight between you and Axel, though it could hardly be called a fight, seeing as you were the only one that landed a blow. But _boy_, did he look mad! Only two people have ever punched him and survived to tell the tale! Apart from you, of course. But we were all surprised coz everyone thought that you were some random emo kid that would just take the pain and get on with it. But then you ran off and-"

"Oi, you're rambling," I interrupted him in his ramblings because he was, indeed, rambling.

He stopped in mid-sentence, thought about what he said, and smiled sheepishly. "Oh, sorry about that. I ramble a lot when I'm nervous. Anyway, I suppose that means you're fine, then? That's good! My name is Demyx! Do you want to be friends?"

Friends. That word again. Could I do it? Would this time be any different from all the other times? Different from the opportunity I just passed up? I looked at the hand he offered me, and my heart tightened. I couldn't do it. This time wouldn't be different.

I looked Demyx in the eye. I hope that one look was enough, because I bolted straight after that. I ran and ran and ran until I came to my foster home. I threw the door open, dashed up the stairs into my room and bolted the lock. Leaning against the door, I slid down it and sat on the ground. And I began to cry.

It was frustrating, not being able to make friends because of my problem. Frustrating, annoying, maddening. I was going to die like this, wasn't I? Alone, unloved, afraid.

My foster father would be home soon, so would his boyfriend. Not that I was supposed to know that my two foster parents were gay. But I suppose that kids really do take after their parents; biological or non. I loved both of my parents. They took care of me like I was their own son. To a certain extent. My problem made it impossible for them to actually treat me like they would a son.

I had an appointment with Dr. Gainsborough in ten minutes. She was close to figuring out what was wrong with me. But I think she already knew. Her eyes told me that she knew a lot of things. They made me feel like they could see inside of me, which flared up my problem a bit, but not much.

Standing up, I grabbed my coat from off the floor, unlocked the door and left the house. It was still raining softly, so I had a bit of time before it really started to pour down. My footsteps were quick and hurried along the sidewalk. Out here, my problem was at it's fullest, and I was edgy.

When I finally saw the building Dr. Gainsborough worked in, it took all my self-control to stop myself running through the door. Instead, I walked in calmly, went to reception and told the lady there my name. Before she could answer me, I was halfway across the room sitting in one of the waiting chairs.

The ten minutes I was sitting there was absolute Hell to me. The stink of people clogged up the very air itself, and the sources were wandering around aimlessly. A few of them and glanced my way a couple of times. I glared at them and soon they were extremely interested in the patterns on the ceiling.

"Uh… Zexion Strife? What kind of name is that? Oh, sorry. Dr. Gainsborough is waiting for you," announced the receptionist.

At the mention of my name, I jumped up off the chair and into a door marked 'Dr. Gainsborough'. Walking in, I saw the lady sitting at her desk, reading something. There was a little sign on her desk that read 'Dr. Aerith Gainsborough'. She looked up and smiled at me. "Have a seat, Zexion."

I complied and sat in yet another seat. This one was just like the other one; red and poofy with a black frame. Aerith turned towards me, her eyes gentle yet very, very serious. "Zexion, it seems you have-"

"I know what I have." My voice was quite, far away in my ears, like I hadn't said the words at all. It was the truth, though. I had always known what was wrong with me. Ever since I moved in with Cloud and Leon. I knew it that day, as I stood on the doorstep waiting to go inside. I had moved away from Leon's welcoming hug. I had avoided them.

Aerith frowned. "Why didn't you tell me before it got so bad? I could have helped you, you know. There are people that want to help you. You just have to let them."

I sighed. I knew this. But it never got any easier. The more she said it, the more unlikely it seemed that I would ever let anyone get close to me. Maybe I really had been doomed from the very beginning.

"There's not much I can do, Zexion. I fear it's already developed too much for a few therapy sessions to heal. You're going to have to get over this yourself," Aerith said, telling me things I already knew.

I nodded numbly. "Then I suppose I should be going. Thank you for talking to me, Aerith, even if nothing was accomplished." I stood, getting ready to leave.

"One way to help you get along would be to get close to someone. Like, _really_ close. You can just be friends to begin with, but then you'll need to let them get closer to you. Let them know your condition. If they're a real friend, they should understand. What you need, Zexion, is a soul mate." Aerith's voice sounded distant, but they were there all the same. I nodded in acknowledgement, then walked out the door.

I exited the building, and the rain was instantly on me. It was absolutely pelting down now. Groaning, I ran through the rain, trying to find my way home. My hair would hate me for this later.

A delighted squeal reached my ears. I stopped and squinted. I could see the faint outline of a person, spinning around. Walking towards it, I realized it was Demyx, dancing in the rain.

My heart sped up again, and I felt my face heat up. Here in the rain, he looked… More like himself than he had before. I spun around, determined to get away before he noticed me. Of course, it failed, and I heard Demyx's voice call out to me.

"Zexi? Is that you?" He called cautiously. Coming closer, he realized it was, indeed, me, and he squealed. "Zexi! It is you! Wait up for me!"

He started to run towards me, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to jump up onto me. He didn't, though. Instead, he walked beside me, silent for the moment. Of course, Demyx silent doesn't last very long, and soon he was trying to strike up a conversation. Just having him there was nerve-racking enough without him actually trying to _talk_ to me. Like I was normal.

Aeriths' words came back to me, _"…get close to someone. Like, _really_ close. You can just be friends to begin with…"_ Well, Aerith, I was trying. I really was. In fact, it might have actually worked if only Demyx hadn't tripped and fallen on me.

_CloesnessproximityomgomgomgtouchtouchfeelomggetoffgetoffnotgoodnotgoodgonnabursthavetogethimofftouchfeelwhywontyougoawaywhydoifeellikethisgetoffgetoffGETOFF!__ (1)_

My eyes widened until it felt like they were bigger than my face. Demyx's body was on top of mine, our faces inches apart. His arms against my arms. His legs on top of my legs. My eyes flicked up into Demyx's face. He was looking down at me. And before I knew it, his lips were over mine, kissing me. I panicked. This was absolute hell for me. My senses went into overdrive. It was too much.

I pushed him off frantically – _omgitouchedhimwhydididothat?ohnostupididiot_ _(2) – _and jumped up, my saturated clothes holding me down. I turned to run and he reached up and grabbed my arm – _omghetouchedmywhydidhedothat ?whydidiletgo? (3)_ – but I wrenched it away from him and ran. I ran. Tears streaked down my eyes. Why was I so weak? Why did I have to be like this? It's not fair!

I crashed through the front door, earning a "What the hell?" from Cloud. I locked myself in my room again and threw myself onto the bed, crying my eyes out on the bedsheet. _Why the hell was I so damn weak?!_ I wanted to know. It wasn't fair. I wanted to be _normal_, goddammit.

I couldn't take it anymore. This problem, it was what prevented me from being normal. Well, I was going to _fix_ the problem. Fix it forever. No one would care. No one would notice.

Reaching underneath the mattress of the bed, I felt around until my hand touched something sharp. Pulling it out, I found it was a piece of glass. _My_ piece of glass.

Sobbing uncontrollably, I slashed the glass through my left upper arm, cutting deep and hitting an artery and slicing it open. Unable to hold it back, I screamed.

From downstairs, I could hear a door slamming open, and hurried words being said. Then rushed footsteps up the staircase. Holding the glass up, I slashed, once again cutting through the injured artery. And, for good measure, I sliced at my wrists as well.

There was a pounding at the door. Someone yelling. More pounding. Switching hands, I hacked at my right arm, slicing deep. I screamed again. The pounding became more frantic. There was more than one person standing outside my door, listening to me scream.

"Zexi, open the door! Please! I promise not to do anything to you ever again, or annoy you, or even look at you weirdly if you would just open the door! Please!" Demyx's pleas filtered through the bottom of the door.

_You're too late, Demyx,_ I though.

Turning to the wall, I dipped my fingers in the crimson liquid that coated the bedspreads. My right arm slowly, painfully, wrote my message up on the wall. It was gory, yes, but a very good way to get my point across. My arm dropped, and closed around the glass. Bringing it up once more, I stabbed deep into my forearm.

My hand loosened and I slumped onto the bed, unable to hold myself up. The poundings had stopped. Obviously whoever it was out there didn't think I was in that much trouble. My eyes started to drift shut, and I did nothing to stop them.

Suddenly, the door crashed open. Someone stumbled inside, and I could hear them scream. They ran towards me, gathered up a blanket and pressed it against my arms. Inside I squirmed. _Contacttouchfeelomgwhat'sgoingon? (4)_.

Something warm pressed itself against my forehead. And then I was gone.

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I remember walking next to Zexion in the rain. I remember accidentally falling on him. I remember the look on his face when I fell – fear? I remember pressing my lips against his, how warm they felt.

I remember Zexion jumping up and running away. I remember reaching out for him, and him pulling away. I remember standing there, watching his small form disappear into the rain.

And then, suddenly, my brain kicked into action. I jumped up and ran after him, my feet pounding on the footpath. Why did he run? Was I wrong to kiss him like that? Or did he just not like me that way?

Millions of questions ran through my head, but still my goal was clear. It shone through all the muddled thoughts like some sort of holy light I had to follow. And to me, this was a matter of life or death. No. It was even more important than that.

I heard a door bang open, then shut. I looked up. Zexion had run into a house. Presumably it was his house. I was still some ways from it, so I sprinted and was there in half a minute. I ran up to the door and pounded my fist against it, begging Zexion to open the door.

The door was opened, but not by Zexion. In front of me stood a man with blonde hair that seemed to defy gravity (well, at least I knew there was _somebody_ with the same ability to do so!) and a huge sword in his hand. I did a double-take when I saw the weapon, but quickly explained who I was and why I was there, and he ushered me inside.

He told me his name was Cloud, and he was one of Zexion's foster parents. His other parent – a man named Leon – was out for the moment and would be back soon. Ignoring the fact that they were probably gay with each other, I told him that my name was Demyx, I was a friend of Zexion's and was extremely worried for him.

Then a scream filtered down the stairway. Our eyes connected and half a second later we were both running up the stairs towards Zexion's room. We came to a door marked 'Zexion's room – Do Not Enter' and I reached for the handle only to realize it was locked.

Another scream came from the room, and I was absolutely positive that it was Zexion – my poor, sweet Zexion – who was yelling. I pounded my fists on the door. "Zexion! Let me in! Zexi! _ZEXI!"_

There was nothing I could do. The door would not open just because I wanted it to. And it was more than likely that Zexion wouldn't open it if he could. "Zexi, open the door! Please! I promise not to do anything to you ever again, or annoy you, or even look at you weirdly if you would just open the door! _Please!_"

I was at screaming point, banging my fist against the wood and yelling my lungs out. Again and again I hit the door. Yet another scream escaped, and cold fear ran through my body. Backing up, Cloud looking at me weirdly, I ran at the door and shouldered it. It held steady. I ran at it again, and again. Cloud had called Leon, who had called the ambulance and had mysteriously appeared at Cloud's shoulder.

But all those little details didn't matter to me. I ran at the door again. If it didn't yield this time, I wouldn't have enough strength for another blow. Lucky for me, the door crashed open, and I ran inside. And screamed.

Zexion was there. So was his blood. Flowing out from the wounds on his arms. He lay in a pool of it. A piece of glass lay close to his hand. I ran forward, collecting up blanket and pushing it against his bleeding arms, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. But I knew it was a lost cause. Tears fell freely, falling on Zexion's deathly pale face.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Were you afraid? Afraid of me? Zexion!" I sobbed, kissing my Zexi's forehead. Picking up one of his mutilated arms, I checked for a pulse. I couldn't find one. I checked for heartbeat. None. He… He was gone.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked behind me. Cloud was standing there, his eyes on Zexion's body. "You were more than just his friend, weren't you?"

I shook my head. "We were never more than friends. Never more than acquaintances. Never more than Nobodies. I watched him from a distance, but I'm afraid my distance was too far," I answered, chocking on my words.

"Cloud, look."

We both looked behind us to see Leon, pointing at the wall. I looked up. Written there was a message from Zexion. In red. Had he used his own blood? My eyes flickered over the words again, and again.

_I was born… alone. I lived my life… alone. And now I die… alone. --Zexi._

"Oh, my poor, poor Zexi. You lived your life alone because you didn't let anyone close to you. But like hell you're going to die alone. I'm here, Zexion. You're not alone anymore. I'm here, and I always will be. I love you, Zexion," I sobbed over his body and reached for the glass.

Cloud didn't stop me. He knew he couldn't. And so, the cold, jagged glass bit through my skin, tearing a deep gash. I screamed. And I waited, curled next to Zexi's body.

I could feel myself slip away. But I could feel something else, too. Zexion was there, waiting for me?

"_Demyx, why did you do it?"_ he asked. He almost looked angry, and I would have been scared if I were anyone else. But I wasn't, and neither was he.

I could have laughed. "Because I love you, you big doof."

He frowned, and that frown turned it a smile. _"I can keep you close in heaven."_

I really did laugh then. "That you can, Zexi. That you can."

_Aphenphosmphobia: Fear of being touched._

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And... there you have it. My third Kingdom Hearts fic. And lol, when I went to go type 'third', I accidentally typed theif nn

Notes aka Zexion's panicked thoughts, in case you couldn't read them:

1) _"Cloesness proximity omg omg omg touch touch feel omg get off get off not good not good gonna burst have to get him off touch feel why won't you go away why do I feel like this get off get off GET OFF!"_

2) _"Omg I touched him why did I do that? Oh no, stupid idiot."_

3) _"Omg he touched me why did he do that? Why did I let go?"_

4) _"Contact touch feel omg what's going on?"_


End file.
